Cold Predator
by Cap'n Jade Sparrow
Summary: Based on Littlestreak and Snatcher. Will SkullClan take over PineClan? The fight will be fierce and bloody, and the Prize will be won. No matter what the Prize is. Currently a oneshot, may be developed.


You probably think you know your cat. But you're wrong. You don't know them at all. You may think that your cat only lives at your house, maybe going to the niebourghs for food. But you're wrong. Have you ever wondered why they spend so much time away from your house? Maybe from days on end, then coming back with injuries? This is because they are really warriors. Warriors of the forest; fighting for food, fighting for shelter, fighting for their friends, family and kittens. Fighting for respect.

**The Prize**

"What do you think you're doing?" A sharp, feminine voice ordered. Loud hissing and a blood-boiling shriek followed, as a small male kitten slashed a fullgrown, longhaired brown she-cat. For his age, his claws were long and sharp, and his paws were already turning scarlet with his victim's blood.

A strong, muscular white tom knocked the dark ginger kit aside with a large paw, and pinned him to the floor, his green eyes blazing with fury. He leapt back in suprise as the kit drew a long, deep gash in his leg. Within moments the kit was standing, his cotton-soft fur fluffed up so he looked twice his size. He rushed out of the clearing, and into the forest, yowling at the top of his lungs.

"The Prize will be won!"

**((END PAGE))**

Cream belly fur brushed the forest floor, paws hitting the ground silently as the hunter advanced on her prey. With ears pricked, hind legs uncoiled like springs, muscles rippling. Needle-sharp claws hit the soft flesh of the squirrel, killing it in seconds. The warm smell of fresh-kill filled her senses, causing her mouth to water. The young she-cat shook her pelt free of loose foliage, and she began to scrape a shallow hole in the earth to keep her kill safe from foxes while she continued. SkullClan was growing fast, and needed feeding now more than ever. But their territory was small. She froze, sniffing the air with a berry-pink nose, breathing deeply: PineClan. She had to get back. Now. With the hunt forgotten, she raced back to camp, the wind whipping her face. Would she get there in time?

Bursting through the entrance, she almost stopped. Everything was peaceful; but she had to warn her leader. Panting heavily with her sides heaving, she bounded to his den.

"Snatcher?" She called in, uncertain. When he answered, she walked in, her head low to show respect to her lord. Beside the russet tom was a white she-cat: Snow, his mate. She knew the tom had exiled himself from PineClan as a kit.

"Snatcher, I found traces of PineClan. I think they're attacking. We should do somethi-" There was a loud battle call. The fight had begun. She felt her clanmates run past her, and followed.

Fighting had erupted in the camp. Yowls of pain and threats filled the air. She leapt into the fray, and was hit on the head in an instant. Her vision blurred, and a wave of darkness washed over her.

**((END PAGE))**

Snatcher snarled as the PineClan warriors fled. Raising his tail in a clear signal, he followed, his Clan behind him. His paws thumped on the forest floor like drums, as he followed his foes into their camp. He bowled their leader, Ferretstar, over and scored his claws along her throat. As she lost her life, he smirked. They had won. And they couldn't be stopped.

**((END PAGE))**

PineClan was part of SkullClan, as Littlestreak found out when she awoke. She was sat with her mate, Stoneclaw. He was a former PineClan cat, and now that the Clans were joined, she had no reason to hide her relationship with him. He had a long, half healed scar on his flank. She pressed her muzzle to his, as a deep purr rumbled from deep in his chest.

**((END PAGE))**

The pain was incrediable. Her throat was parched. Everything felt horrible. Her eyes widened in pain, and her jaws opened in a large, loud scream. Outside, moonlight picked out the outlines of lithe figures, picking out the worry in their eyes. A tom paced back and forth, sometimes stopping to look at a den where the scream were coming from. He should be in there, with her.

Another tom walked up to him, laying his tail over his companion's broad shoulders in comfort. After a few moments, a head popped out of the narrow gap, her whiskers twitching.

"You can come in now Stoneclaw." She meowed, and slipped back inside. Stoneclaw followed, but stopped to let his eyes adjust to the gloom. Once he could see clearly, he continued forwards, and stopped beside his mate. Beside her soft belly were three, slightly damp kits. One, the female, was a silvery-blue tabby with white paws. Another, one of the males, was a blazing ginger, and the last was pure white.

"We have two sons and a daughter." Littlestreak rasped, her eyes glazed with exhaustion.

"What shall we call them?" He asked, trying to think.

"Blizzard for the white tom," Littlestreak decided. " Mackrel for our daughter..."

"And Fire for the ginger," Stoneclaw meowed, naming his last kit. "Our children are here. The Prize is won."


End file.
